Falling For My Husband: Again

Chapter 21

♣ Marie Smith ♣

I stretched, a yawn accompanying that action as soon as I woke up from another best sleep in Germany.

These few days had been the best, with all the fun it had graced me with.

This was the best times ever for me. Things I wasn't sure could happen actually had been happening.

Foods I'd never seen before tasted far more delicious than anything else I'd tasted.

Seriously, I couldn't have enjoyed myself any better than I had.

Ignoring the fact my hair flew all over my head, I got out of bed, putting on my bunny slippers before leaving the room.

Henry was rarely to never home (as you'd have expected), but it didn't really bother me.

Why?

I had this entire huge place to myself alone.

Also, it gave me enough of a chance to freely have my morning tea by the wall while staring out at the beautiful view, without thinking there was a weirdo around.

But as I got out, I was surprisingly greeted by the sight of Henry on the couch, some files in hand as he flipped through them.

Huh?

“You aren't going anywhere today?” The surprise was evident in my expression, causing his gaze to shift to me.

Annoyingly, they swept past my appearance from head to toe, before returning to my face and earning a frown from me.

What the heck?

“It's Sunday, I'm not heading anywhere today.”

Still, my frown didn't leave.

Why would he seriously scan me that way? What on earth was wrong with this dude.

He just had to make me far more aware of how I looked.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to walk out in a blue knee length nightgown, with my hair all over my head.

And oh s**t, I didn't have any bra on so the outline was my n*****s were—

I had to bite back a frustrated wince, clenching my fist to avoid wrapping it around my chest.

Why on earth did he seriously not just go to work like he always did.

Life was far better when he did.

At least his gaze didn't linger on me, shifting back to the files which he flipped, scanning through it.

Good, that meant end of conversation, so maybe I could just go back to my room and never come out till tomorrow.

But of course, he had to make a way where I'd still be forced to see his face.

“Go take a shower then we can both have something to eat.” His tone was as formal as one would expect.

Seriously, did he look at me as one of the people he worked with? Couldn't he at least speak normally.

I let out an audible huff before heading back into my room whose door I closed behind me.

Once in, I took no time in throwing off the gown, picking a towel the hotel had given me, then wrapped that around my shoulder till it fell just below my butt.

Heading to the bathroom, I took a hot shower as the hotel was freaking freezing.

The type that could possibly turn a human to ice.

It all made me wonder how the workers could survive with their uniform that wouldn't do any good to help the cold.

So weird.

Once out of the shower, I wrapped myself in the towel again then headed to my bags, where I searched for what to wear.

It didn't take long before I settled with an oversized yellow top with sky blue trousers.

Not the best combination, but the most comfortable, so yeah.

It's not like anyone was watching.

I didn't have any plans to go out today.

Putting on my bra, I wore a brown singlet then wore my shirt. Afterwards, I put on my knickers then the trousers.

Once done, I went to the mirror, giving my hair a quick brush, before packing it comfortably to the back.

As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but recall the first few days after my wedding.

How I'd take minutes (sometimes hours) to pick the look perfect for him.

I just wanted him to see me impressed.

But most of the times, he was either not home or he wouldn't acknowledge my presence.

It used to hurt a lot then.

But soon after, when I realized he would never care, I just stopped caring also.

And now… I couldn't care less if he thought I looked weird.

As long as it didn't have anything to do with the shape of my t**s being visible.

Still wearing my bunny slippers, I left the room, closing the door behind me, then headed to the dining table where he sat at the head with our food on the table.

The meal the hotel staff had gotten laid on the table.

Strangely enough, ever since the first day they got a meal enough for ten people, they never got that much again.

I wasn't sure why.

Could it have been possible that he had told them not to because I'd said so?

No, how's that possible? Don't be dumb Marie.

He'd never do that. Ever.

Due to the fact he seemed focused on whatever he did on the phone, my presence wasn't announced when I walked in.

Or maybe he noticed and didn't just care to stare at me.

So annoying.

Still, I purposefully cleared my throat, causing him to stare up at me, then he dropped his phone on the table.

“Why don't we start eating?” I said, sitting by the tail.

Taking a spoon, I headed straight to the soup as this hotel made delicious soups.

“I'm heading to work tomorrow.” He started, not bothering to take his fork or knife.

I rolled my eyes, taking a spoon of the hot soup. “I think I'm already used to that, but thanks for the heads-up, I guess.”

“What will you do while I'm away?”

Another spoon of soup, “have fun like I've been doing these past days.”

I'd had tons of fun actually. Taking a tour of the country was a great experience.

The tour guide, Thomas, as he'd preferred to be called, was really great when it came to taking me around and letting me in on the uses and reasons for certain historical stuff.

Heading to different restaurants had also been equally fun and intriguing to taste new food.

He even taught me some German words (which I'd sadly forgotten), but it had been fun.

Except I hadn't made any friends.

And truthfully, I couldn't blame them.

Like, who'd want to be friends with someone who had ten bodyguards walking behind her like she was born in wealth.

They probably tagged me as bad news, so yeah, couldn't blame them.

“Okay.” He picked up his fork and spoon, cutting the meat that was in front of him.

Did he only eat meat or what? I mean, there were other varieties in front of him.

There was a slightly awkward silence.

Sitting with him was seriously weird and uncomfortable.

So I decided to start a conversation.

“So this business you attend,” I asked, raising the bowl of soup to my mouth, and drinking all its content, before dropping it back, “do you always take Mrs Fila with you?”

He chewed his meat finish before nodding, “yes.”

Again, that pinch of emotion I knew wasn't jealousy. “Do you take her on all business trips?”

“Yes.”

I resisted the urge to huff as I started eating the fruit dish on another plate. “Why must she tag along?”

“Because she's my secretary.” He replied, staring at me though I avoided his gaze. “Why do I get the feeling that you don't like her?”

I ignored that question. “Doesn't her husband complain about her traveling every single time?”

What husband would not care that his wife leaves the country for business so frequently.

If I was him, I'd be annoyed.

“Actually,” his gaze still didn't leave me, “her husband is not with her.”

The words made me return his gaze. “What?”

He wanted to reply, but the ringing of his phone interrupted him.

After staring at the caller, he picked up the phone, rising up after his “excuse me” before disappearing out of sight, leaving me with my thoughts.

Mrs Fila was not with her husband? Did that mean they were divorced?

So she and her husband had divorced each other. That meant she was single.

That meant she could go back with any other man.

Then why did she maintain the ‘Mrs' status? Did she want to convince wives (like me) so we wouldn't think she could reach our husbands.

Oh that cunning woman.

She was out for my husband and Henry seemed to be getting into her trap.

He came back, “something came up, I've got to go.” Then disappeared out of sight again.

Was he going with Mrs Fila? No, with Fila? No use using the ‘Mrs' when it's not real.